The ultimate diagnosis was a broken ankle, bruised ribs, a sprained wrist. "One in every flavor," August said with a weak smile. "You're like the Yum Yum Shoppe of bodily harm." He shook his head. 'Fourteen flavors of fun. I would need eleven more injuries." "You'll probably have a bunch of bruises." "Eleven of them?""Yup." "Then I'm the Yum Yum Shoppe." ~pg. 260

-Emma Mills

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